The Chibi Transformers
by Evil Killer Poptarts
Summary: See EKP, a normal college student. See EKP buy a shipment of toys from Hong Kong. See EKP really wish she hadn't done that...
1. The Beginning of the Madness

_The usual warning: I don't own Transformers, but I *do* own the toys that now terrorize my dorm room. Though I don't know *why* I claim them. I also own myself and Brian and Michelle own themselves, respectively. Well, Brian's fiance could claim to own him, but that's another mess entirely..._

  


It was a dark and stormy night.

Actually, no, it wasn't. It was a pretty normal Thursday for me. I'd been to my 7:50 class (Elementary Education in a Pluralistic Society! :D!) and read to a kindergartener for one of my other classes. The only extraordinary thing about my day was when Brian turned to me when I arrived to EEPS and asked, "Did you get the box yet?"

Allow me to explain. The Box was a shipment of Transformers toys I'd ordered a week and some previous. MyClones, to be exact. Cute, chibi little Transformers with completely interchangeable parts- adorable and just the thing I needed for my addiction. Brian, as I discovered, was also a Transfan, and had been asking me every class we had together since about The Box.

I had to tell him no when I entered the 12:05 we have together, Foundations in Early Childhood. Can you tell I'm an elementary education major? He was downcast, but bound and determined to follow me to my mailbox yet again to see if The Box- or rather the red slip that informed me of packages- had arrived. Class got out at 1:30ish and we raced to the student center to see if it was there, taking bets on how late it would actually be. I peeked in my box and started shrieking.

"Brian! It's actually HERE!" Brian grinned and got out the pocketknife he'd been carrying around with him for the better part of a week, for the sole purpose of opening The Box. I traded the red slip for the lightweight package, and Brian ripped it open as we headed back towards the dorms. We sat on the one bench sandwiched among four of the dorms and carefully opened the box of MyClones. They were so cute! Only a couple inches tall. Brian took his five of the twelve and I kept my seven- Megatron, Optimus Prime, an Optimus Prime in truck form, Arcee, Ultra Magnus, and two Starscreams- one for me and one for a friend's Christmas present. Brian and I played with the toys a while before he had to leave and we planned to stage a war during Tuesday's EEPS class.

Box in hand, I returned to my dorm and my suite, dancing with joy. They were so cute and all mine! I made the patented "happy Roommate noise" (eeeEEEEEEEeee like a banshee, really) and posted a box to my door, along with a peace offering- the bubble wrap from The Box- up for my roommate who would probably soon regret ever agreeing to live with me.

Funny how trouble always begins in such an inane way, isn't it?

I began to suspect things when I left the crew sitting on my desk, sans Optimus, whom I was showing off to my suitemates and being excited and bubbly-happy, and returned to find the guys dismembered and a very content-looking Arcee standing alone in the center of the plasticene carnage. The alt-mode Optimus was more or less cowering on the far side of my laptop.

"…What… what the heck?" I scooped up Arcee, looking closely at her, before gently setting her back down and reassembling the guys one by one. I left Magnus for last and did a spoof of the Movie with Arcee.

"Ultra Magnus! First Prime, now Ultra Magnus… what will we do?" I crooned.

It was when Arcee echoed it that I about lost it.

"…Arcee?!" The little femme smiled up at me.

"Hello," she said politely. "Sorry about the mess earlier… Starscream was pushing it, and I got a little… carried away."

"I guess so," I stammered, dumbfounded. The toys were two and a half inches tall. (That's six and a half centimeters, for you metric-users out there.) They came apart without obvious bleeding of any fluid whatsoever. Heck, I'd been swapping heads back and forth with Brian outside! "How… how did you do that?"

"Do what?" Arcee sounded so innocent I honestly believed she knew less than I.

"Starscream, you traitorous wretch! Your failure resulted in both of us being dismembered! By a FEMME!" A familiar voice resounded through my room and I glanced up at the Decepticons- on a shelf by themselves, which was a move I now appreciated- to see Megatron about ready to rip his second into little plastic pieces.

"Tell me, fearless leader, do you see any Decepticon femmes around here?" Starscream's mocking tone almost made me believe he wasn't scared, but the fact that he was cowering behind a Jawa plushie gave him away.

"That isn't the point!"

I decided to intervene.

I was promptly shot in the finger with Megatron's chibi-sized fusion cannon.

I grabbed the little Decepticon and yanked his gun arm off.

"Put me down, human!" I laughed a little as Megatron squirmed.

"Yeah, right. Now you know how it feels to be on the other side of things." My voice was deadly soft. I was bleeding, I had a bunch of chibi Transformers on my hands with WORKING weaponry, and I was suddenly not in such a great mood. Megatron glanced down at the little stub his arm hooked to before landing an icy glare on me. "You guys are in MY dorm room, and I won't have you tearing it to shreds!"

"What sort of creature *are* you, fleshy?" Megs demanded.

"I'm a human, and I have a name!"

"Then what is it?" That voice sounded awfully familiar… I glanced down and saw that Optimus had gathered his own troops, including the alt-mode version of himself, and was presently standing beside my Genericon fund jar. Ultra Magnus was keeping his distance from Arcee. I idly wondered what he'd done to get ripped apart right along with the Decepticon duo.

"I'm Evil Killer Poptarts," I replied, frowning heavily at Megatron.

"Evil… Killer… Maybe you could be of use to us," Megatron said. He was already plotting, I just knew it.

"I don't think so. If you want your arm back, you'll be on your best behavior." I set Megatron back down on the shelf and scooped Optimus up.

"How did we get to this strange world, miss Poptarts?" he asked softly. Optimus was always polite, wasn't he?

"Um… Well, I bought you. You're all just toys," I explained. The blank looks all around prompted me to get out the MyClones box and their individual boxes in an effort to explain. "I'm really not sure how you're alive, but… Provided you're *all* on your best behavior-" I glowered at Megatron- "this could be a lot of fun."

"So who's in the box that's sealed up?" Arcee pointed at the box hanging out by itself, the top taped shut so I wouldn't be tempted to play with the contents.

"Starscream." An incredulous noise came from the unboxed Seeker and he hopped down off the shelf to see for himself. I panicked, thinking he would fall and break, when he activated his thrusters and glided to a landing. The scorch marks he left behind on the desk would cost me a pretty penny when the end of the year came along, but maybe I could buff them out…

"I see no indication that this is me," Starscream retorted in a huff.

"The boxes aren't labeled, that's why I had to buy a case of twelve," I explained again. "Brian has the other five."

"…There are more of us?"

"Copies of each of you, actually." I shrugged. "But the Starscream in that box had better STAY in that box or I'll be confiscating legs." The cumulative gasp from all present was music to my ears. Perhaps I could stop the fighting after all.

Or not.

My roommate, Michelle, entered just then. She was fascinated by the bubble wrap pinned to our bulletin board so I had time to order the guys (and girl) to freeze on pain of death. I wanted to break the news to her slowly. As in, she wouldn't know until she was on her deathbed if I could help it. The fact that I owned Transformers toys was too much for her. LIVING Transformers would throw her off the deep end!

"C'mon, let's go to dinner," she called once she and my suitemates had played with the bubble wrap. I tossed the figurines into the big MyClones box and shut it, figuring I should take them with me lest they ripped the room apart in my absence. "No, you are NOT taking toys to DINNER," Michelle said in that mom-tone I know should be obeyed. I groaned and reluctantly set the box down, not bothering to take them back out and separate them by faction. I pouted through dinner and Michelle just teased me about it.

I didn't even think of my mistake until we were headed back and in the stairwell of our dorm.

"Michelle! I just left Arcee in a box with the guys!" I panicked.

"They're TOYS. They're made of PLASTIC," Michelle reminded me. I couldn't explain but tried not to break into a flat-out run back to the room. I figured they probably had already terminated one another during the half-hour we were in Baldwin, so a few minutes wouldn't matter much.

Starscream pieces were everywhere inside the box. The remaining mechs were cowering in one corner, Arcee in the other, glaring at them all. Ultra Magnus was missing an arm and he hadn't dared to retrieve it from the little pile of Starscream parts at Arcee's feet. I just watched, fascinated.

"Arcee, please, be reasonable," Optimus tried, obviously scared of the femme that had once been only a fraction of his size. "At least give Magnus back his arm."

"He can come get it, if he wants," Arcee said sweetly. Magnus shuddered.

"I think I'll be okay without it," Magnus said quickly.

"Scared of the lil' femme, Mags?" I cooed, teasing him. "She's a little more scary now that she's your size, isn't she?" The fact that she had them so cowed amused me greatly. I always knew Arcee was perfectly capable of holding her own, she was just so petite and small the others didn't believe it. I was half waiting for Arcee to pick up Starscream's head and recite Hamlet, if only to scare the other Transformers still further. I was certain they would be treating her like an equal and with the utmost respect after this. "Okay, Arcee, stop terrorizing the guys." I picked each of them up and settled them in their respective "base." The Decepticons got the shelf, as they could at least get down without breaking themselves, and the Autobots were on my desk. Megatron complained about getting the smaller area until I threatened him with Starscream's fate. That shut him up fairly quickly. Once peace (sort of) reigned on my desk again, I reassembled the air commander.

"Miss Poptarts… where are the others?" Optimus had been watching me put Starscream back together for a while and it startled me when he spoke.

"Um… only eighteen of you have been made as MyClones… Well, there are a few others, but the chances of me getting a chaser MyClone is about nil," I said, grinning. "I can't afford the other twelve yet."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a poor college student who works housekeeping to afford food." I shrugged. "That, and I want to go to Genericon." Optimus' little optics widened.

"What is Genericon? Some sort of Decepticon fortress?" He sounded incredulous that I would go to a Decepticon base, my possession of two Decepticon leaders aside.

"No, it's an anime convention."

"What is anime?" I about choked. I went to my movie collection and hijacked Michelle's computer, (my eight-year-old laptop can't handle DVDs) sticking in "Blue Seed" for them.

"This is anime," I told the assembled robots, watching my favorite anime of all time. Optimus looked confused, Megatron cheered on the Aragami (the bad guys), Arcee was focused on the storyline, Starscream tried to look bored, and Ultra Magnus was glued to the screen. The alt-mode Optimus wandered off at some point. The Optimi didn't act very alike, strangely enough.

"Roommate… Why are you watching Blue Seed on my computer?" Michelle had entered and I didn't even hear her. The chibi Transformers all turned and looked at her. I groaned as Michelle saw it. "…Roommate...?" Her nursing-major, sensible mind couldn't quite grasp the five robots now staring at her. Well, four. Ultra Mags was immediately drawn back to the show.

"Guess what, Michelle?" I tried to be cheerful. "They're… ah… alive!"

Michelle fainted.

She fainted *again* after she came to and I tried to explain the situation.

My dear roommate nearly fainted a third time, but I had smelling salts ready this time.

"Please, Michelle," I begged, "Can't I keep them? They don't eat anything-"

"Yes we do!" Starscream received a good swat for that.

"-and they'll be good, I promise!"

"I most certainly will not!" I whipped around and glared at Megatron.

"Yes, you will, remember our bargain?" Megs protectively held his arm cannon away from me, remembering the first time I took it. "I might have to give it to Arcee, actually." Arcee cheered. The other Transformers promptly relocated themselves on Michelle's desk, which wasn't that HARD. I mean, there's a reason our answering machine message begins with the following recording from the Movie: *whistle* "This place must be the junk capitol of the universe!"

Well, all the transformers scattered, that is, except for Ultra Magnus. His avid attention was bordering on the disturbing. I've read a LOT of fanfiction, and the comics, and I watch the Movie constantly (usually only when Michelle's gone. I'm really, honestly TRYING not to drive her insane) but I've never heard of Magnus being a cartoon fan. 

Who knew?

Michelle just started blankly for a long while before she found her voice again. "How many… How many of those things are you going to have?" she asked softly, afraid of the answer.

"There's only eighteen or so that I can get, but these six are all I can afford now." Michelle released an audible sigh of relief. "I'll try to keep them out of trouble, I promise." Because, really, how much trouble can a quintet of two-and-a-half inch tall Transformers and an itty-bitty alt mode truck really get into?

Me and my big mouth.

I'm not certain, but I think Starscream started it. I think the little guy's positively adorable, but his fellow Transformers do not share my opinion. You'd think after getting slagged twice in one day, he'd learn; isn't he supposed to be a scientist? But no, he decided to push his luck with Megs.

He was promptly drop-kicked off the desk shelf.

My roommate grades papers for one of her profs, so she was lying on the floor, working. I was talking to the Autobots, fascinated with what they had to say. I heard Starscream's screech as he was ejected from his post and watched, amused, as he flew through the air and landed heavily on Michelle's paper.

Michelle picked him up and chucked him back at me.

"Your Transformer left marks on the paper!" Michelle growled in frustration. Sure enough, a little bit of blue paint and two small, smoking holes were left in the lab.

"Um… Let's hope it's someone who'll understand?" I suggested lamely, as Starscream climbed up my shirt to (relative) safety on my shoulder.

"He BURNED the lab! How am I supposed to explain this to Maggie?!" Maggie being the prof- Michelle's a bit of a strange girl at times and refers to all of her profs by their first name, or just their last, skipping the "prof" or "doctor" title entirely. Ah, well. As long as she doesn't say it to their faces, I think she'll live.

"Michelle, there's nothing I can do," I said honestly. "I could take his feet and wings off, I guess." Starscream let up a howl from his current position of clutching my collar. "New rule, Decepticons: No thrusters in the room, got it?" Megatron glowered at me, but Starscream thanked me loudly in a vain attempt to keep his feet. "Yeah, yeah, I won't take your feet, Screamer. Now hush." I plucked him from my shoulder and returned him to the shelf where Megs was still glaring daggers at me. "You two play nice," I warned. "I'm trying to do homework here."

"But according to your computer, you're reading fanfiction," Optimus reported from my right. I blushed as Michelle shot me a scolding look.

"I'm reading Chemistry too, see?" I held up my book in defense.

"Chemistry? You're a scientist?" Starscream looked intrigued.

"I'm not a scientist, but I'm in a class. Pretty elementary stuff, really."

"…Can I come to the class with you?" he asked softly, trying not to let the other Transformers hear. A loud snicker came from somewhere on the desk but I ignored it. I considered Starscream's request- it might be better for everyone if the treacherous Air Commander wasn't in the room. Granted, it might be better for everyone to have separate rooms, but I didn't think my suitemates would like to babysit for me. They didn't even know the chibi Transformers were alive, after all.

"Sure, Starscream, as long as you promise to be good." Starscream nodded quickly, not about to risk getting a part or two confiscated. I absently wondered if confiscating weaponry before I left for chapel the next morning and shutting the remaining Transformers in my coinage jars might help, too, but I knew that would just give Megs *another* reason to kill me in my sleep.

Sleep.

I had forgotten about that little fact. The little munchkins could raise all sorts of unholy terror while I slept.

"Do you think this dress looks okay on me?" I heard one of my suite's freshmen, the other Michelle, asking the rest of the suite. The freshmen were having a formal (a strange thing at a school where dancing was outlawed, but whatever) and she and Amanda, the other freshman, were trying to choose outfits. I scooped up Optimus to show off and headed out to the living room.

"You look great," I told Michelle, grinning. Optimus made a startled noise and I gripped him tighter, reminding him to be quiet. "And Optimus here thinks you do, too!" Michelle laughed.

"Thank you, it's wonderful to know that Optimus thinks I look good," she said, grinning at me. Michelle has a great sense of humor. She's a good kid, and her dress really was adorable- a little black thing with a polka-dotted bodice and a little ribbon. Something straight out of the twenties, and it is precisely her style. I retreated to my room, my homework and my fanfiction, and settled Optimus back on the desk.

"She's a lot smaller than you, Miss Poptarts. Is she a miniature human?" I cracked up.

"No, Optimus, I'm just fat," I told him seriously. "Michelle and Amanda need a serious confidence boost, though."

"Why?"

"Because they're freshmen and new and aren't sure if they'll fit in yet. Typical freshmen fears. I need to do something about that, or they'll never leave their room. She didn't believe me when I said it just now- reinforcement is gonna be the key here." I dug out my gel pens and a 3x5 card.

"May I tell them? They didn't believe you." Optimus had a point. I offered him a gel pen and he somehow scrawled out a message, signing it himself. He then tried his hand at doodling the Autobot insignia in the corner. It didn't look very good- using a pen more than twice one's size isn't easy- but I wasn't about to ridicule his artistic ability. I folded the card in half to set on their dresser while they were in the living room watching a movie and snuck in with Optimus, chuckling to myself. I set the note down and Optimus as well.

"There."

"This room looks nothing like yours." Optimus marveled at the different taste of my suitemates. Lemme just say my decorations are a bit more… eclectic than most. Adding Michelle's weird style didn't help much, so our room is by far the most random out of the suite. Michelle and Amanda actually have a bit of a theme going, so their room looks a bit more- coherent. "May I stay here and talk to them?" I bit my lip. I knew Michelle would take something as random as talking toys fairly well, but Amanda… hrm.

"If you promise not to watch 'em change and don't talk, sure." Optimus nodded his assent and I snuck back out of the room to shower.

Returning to my room a while later, I could hear Amanda and Michelle talking about the formal the next day. I grinned and entered their room.

"Didja get Optimus' note?" I asked, joking.

"Yes! It really is nice to get notes from little robots." Good ol' Michelle. My grin widened and I changed my inflection to mimic my best friend's mom, who's Japanese.

"Optimus good luck; he ward off evil Decepticons and boyfriends who be bad for you," I teased. Michelle just giggled and Amanda groaned. "You should take him with you to the formal tomorrow, I think he'd love it."

"Sure! It'll be like having a piece of the suite with me!" Michelle sounded excited. Optimus' little optics glowed more brightly at me and I could tell he wanted to go, too.

"You're welcome to take him. He didn't… he didn't watch you guys change, did he?"

"No, he covered his eyes." I wasn't really sure if she was kidding or not. I didn't want to press the issue and give away more than I needed to. Well, if Optimus was in Michelle and Amanda's room all day tomorrow, that wouldn't be so bad- only four Transformers left in my room. And Megatron's cannon *would* be attending classes with me, as well. He wouldn't be quite as much trouble with only an arm. Ultra Magnus was clearly afraid of Arcee, and the alt-mode Optimus was definitely a loner. I guess being a one by two inch semi would be a bit hard to function as. On a whim, I stuck him in Amanda and Michelle's room as well, so both of them could have an Optimus, in one form or another.

Sleep.

I knew I needed it; it was already one in the morning and I had to be up at 9:30 for chapel. However, I had a dilemma.

How was I going to keep Megatron from murdering me while I slept?

The answer was much easier than I anticipated. I glanced at the quartet of Transformers, thinking. Arcee didn't have any visible weapons and I honestly didn't know if she had a subspace pocket with her usual gun in it. Deciding to chance it, I scooped up Arcee and Megatron, making sure I had Megs' cannon plugged with my thumb.

"What are you doing, you insolent female?!" Megatron raged as I set him down on the desk, pinning him with a finger as he tried to squirm away.

"This is for everyone's good," I reassured him. The glare I received told me otherwise. "Arcee, shut down a minute, will you?" She looked hesitant.

"…What are you going to do, Miss Poptarts?"

"Give you a bit of an upgrade." Arcee grinned and willingly shut down. I glanced at Megatron. "You, too. Shut down."

"Absolutely not," he hissed. I shrugged.

"Suit yourself." Without thinking about it, I yanked off his head- he continued protesting and I could see Magnus and Starscream squirming- and set his head down. I gently took off Arcee's and swapped the bodies, effectively trapping Megatron without any weapons in Arcee's body and giving Arcee a bit of an arsenal. "'Kay, Arcee, you can wake up now," I told her, returning her to the corner of the desk I'd designated as Autobot headquarters.

"I feel funny," she mumbled, disoriented. She glanced down at her body and let out a shriek. "This is… This is Megatron's body!" I nodded.

"You're now officially the babysitter, Arcee. If any of the guys get out of line, feel free to blast 'em." Megatron was howling, but I ignored him. I unscrewed the Genericon Fund jar, removed the money, and stuck him inside, sealing it up so I couldn't hear the obscenities he was yelling. "There. It should be safe in here tonight," I cooed, grinning. I was quite pleased with myself.

Starscream and Ultra Magnus hid.

"As long as you're both good, I won't do anything to either of you," I promised. A pair of hesitant, shaky "Yes ma'ams" assured me that there would be no serious trouble tonight.

Poor Ultra Magnus. He wasn't adjusting well to life in my dorm room. Considering he'd been ripped to pieces and dismembered a second time only an hour or so later, I couldn't blame him. I picked up Starscream next.

"No, please, I'll be good!" Starscream was trembling in my hand.

"Relax, Screamer! I'm just going to put you in my backpack so I don't forget to take you to Chemistry tomorrow." He relaxed somewhat, not entirely pleased at being shoved in my backpack. I reminded him that Arcee was loose in Megatron's body and he abruptly stopped protesting. Maybe he'd *finally* learned not to hit on the femme.

I hoped so. With Megatron's cannon attached to her arm at present, she wasn't going to just dismember anyone for a while- they'd be little piles of melted plastic.

Ah, well. I yawned and headed for bed. Michelle had been in bed for a good two hours already, though I could tell from her tossing and turning on the top bunk that she wasn't asleep.

"Um… roommate?" I glanced up.

"Yeah?"

"They're not going to… Y'know… Shoot us, are they?" I grinned in the darkness.

"Nope, I've taken care of that already." Michelle calmed considerably and within minutes she was asleep. I, on the other hand, was wide awake- it usually takes a good half-hour before I fall asleep on any given night, and tonight I had a lot to think about.

…What if they needed to eat?


	2. When Chibis Attack!

Lemme just say that I am *not* a morning person.

Well, it's more like an "I HATE being vertical before two pm" sort of thing.

Michelle usually has to yell at me to get me out of bed for chapel, and this morning was no exception. It's not that I don't *like* chapel- I really do like it- I'm just not a morning person. I'm pretty good about my 7:50 because it's a teacher class, but I get six chapel skips and some mornings my bed is just a lot more inviting…

I grunted as Michelle said my name again in a vain attempt to make me get out from under my comfy covers and get ready.

I grunted as my suitemates bade me a good morning.

I grunted as Michelle more or less dragged me outside, a protein bar in my mouth, hopping down the hall yanking on my shoes and trying to fall on my face.

I grunted when I actually fell on my face.

THAT woke me up.

However, I returned to my one-syllable vocabulary until I'd gotten a chance to scarf my protein bar and some energy was finally running to my brain. Michelle was already ahead of me; I have a hard enough time walking without tripping when I first wake up; walking and CHEWING without tripping requires a good deal of concentration. I walk VERY slowly as a result.

Michelle does not have this problem.

I loathe her for it some mornings.

Today was one of those days.

I absently shoved the protein bar wrapper into my pocket and heard a spluttered, angry retort as a result. Yanking my hand back out, I remembered that was the side Starscream was in. He'd begged to be let out of my backpack, so I shoved him in my pocket. He didn't like it much, but when I threatened to remove his legs, he acquiesced.

I heard footsteps behind me, but before I got a chance to turn, Liz attacked.

Liz really likes to come up behind me, stab me in the sides with her fingers, and shriek "eeee!" at the top of her lungs, as I always jump. Needless to say, I hate that.

She does it anyway.

She did it this morning and I about flipped her over my shoulder for it.

I remembered she's a nursing major and calculated that her backpack made her far too heavy to effectively flip, plus she'd probably break her spine landing on all of those books.

I spared her. For the time being, anyway.

The rest of the walk was rather uneventful. I only tripped over my feet a few times and nobody tried to run us over as we crossed the one road between the dorm-side of campus and the PAC (the performing arts center, where Chapel is held.) People go tearing across that road, even though there are signs everywhere declaring that students have the right of way and it's a student crossing. There's also an elementary school on the PAC side, and people don't seem to realize eight-year-olds could be crossing the road. We just figure that if someone runs us over, they'll be paying our tuition, which is not exactly pocket change. Some days it's almost tempting to hurl myself headlong in front of the cars. That's usually only when the bills come and I realize how in debt I already am…

Starscream was pretty quiet, which I took as a good sign. Maybe he was rethinking his lecherous ways with Arcee and was repenting.

Or maybe he was trying to figure out how to hit on her without being dismembered.

Either way, I took his silence as a blessing and entered Chapel.

My former roommate, Janie, about blew a gasket when I told her that my Transformers had arrived. Her brother is more obsessed than I, so she'd rather not see me corrupted by them.

"I am coming to your room and taking away all of your Transformers," she promised. Michelle grinned.

"She has one in her pocket right now." I pulled Starscream out and proudly showed him to Janie. Janie frowned heavily at me.

"GO. SIT. BE CONVICTED BY JESUS," she ordered, pointing. She was only half-joking. Michelle and I laughed and went to our usual place, where our friends were waiting. I showed Starscream off. Liz and Emily both held him a minute, trying to decide how to act over it, and Liz accidentally yanked the little 'mech's leg off. Starscream cringed and Liz about dropped him.

"Oh, yeah, by the way," I whispered, as Chapel had already started, "They're alive. Let me have him back before he starts shooting stuff." Liz gladly handed the little robot over, pale as a ghost. Emily was giving me a blank stare. She's too logical for her own good. I reattached Starscream's severed strut and settled the seething Seeker back in my pocket for the remainder of the time in Chapel, not wanting another incident.

Annoyed with being stabbed in the thigh all through Chapel, Starscream was relocated to the desk during Chemistry. I made him swear to be good and not move whatsoever, on pain of death at Arcee's hands. He reluctantly agreed and I set him on the desk as I pulled out my supplies for class.

Class itself was completely uneventful.

I almost felt as if I'd fallen into an alternate reality.

There was a 2 ½" sentient robot sitting on my desk for the entire class period, and nobody said a word. My professor didn't even seem to notice, and I sit in the front row. I think he's just used to my particular brand of strangeness, though.

The day progressed fairly smoothly, considering.

At least, until I returned to my dorm room.

That was when all slag had broken loose. I briefly wondered if I was witnessing the Apocalypse, but from my study of Revelation, the Last Days were NOT brought on by a herd of chibi toys.

Megatron somehow had gotten out of the Genericon jar, and he and Arcee were locked in epic battle.

Ultra Magnus figured out how to run the DVD player on Michelle's computer and was completely caught up in Blue Seed- he must've been watching them all day, as he was most of the way through the 13 hours of show. I really wasn't sure how he'd managed to swap DVDs, but maybe that was before Arcee and Megatron decided to duke it out on my desk.

Several holes in my wall, my furniture, and my accumulated "stuff" attested to Arcee's attempts to stop Megatron. Even trapped in the femme's body, Megatron had lost none of his blood lust nor his attitude. I dropped my backpack in horror and raced to stop the battle before someone lost an eye. Someone like me. I grabbed Megatron, screaming mad.

"What do you THINK you're DOING?!" I demanded, shaking him roughly. His glare only intensified. "There is to be no fighting in this room! Absolutely NONE! NADA! ZIP! Get it?!"

"Megatron takes orders from nobody," Megatron said coolly.

"Famous last words, Megs. You lost to Unicron and you're GONNA lose to me." I yanked his head off and set it aside, turning to Arcee. "I know you're getting attached to that body, Arcee, but I think that if I bought Hot Rod or Springer they wouldn't appreciate it." If toy robots could blush… Arcee willingly let me return her head to her proper body and I grudgingly gave Megatron back his. "I will be holding on to your fusion cannon until you can prove you can be good," I hissed, taking the whole arm and pocketing it. "If you pick a fight, I'm shipping you back to Hong Kong. If you shoot something, I'm shipping you back to Hong Kong. If you so much as make a face at me behind my back- back to Hong Kong you go!" Megatron didn't say a word, but I hoped I'd gotten the point through. Frustrating little critter or not, he was a part of my collection and I don't want to part with him. Don't tell him I said that, though.

"What the *heck* happened in *here?*" Michelle asked incredulously, entering a few minutes after I. She stared in a mix of wide-eyed amazement and horror at the mess Arcee and Megatron had caused.

"Megatron happened. And if this happens again, he *will* be going back to China," I growled, shooting the offending toy a dirty look. He radiated an air of nonchalance as he turned to explore the Decepticon shelf, ignoring me entirely. I fished Starscream out of my pocket and returned him to his 'base,' focusing my attention on the homework I had to do. 

Several hours, one meal, and several more hours later…

"Y'know, Roommate, this is pathetic. It's Friday night and we're both doing homework." I glanced at the clock on my computer- eleven. I'd been doing homework for eight mind-numbing HOURS. Well, there was the occasional fanfic interspersed in there, but Michelle's withering stare when she came in and found me reading instead of working set me to rights *very* quickly.

"Do you have another idea?" Michelle asked idly from the floor. Her desk is too cluttered to possibly be a good workspace, and her ADD makes sitting at it impossible anyway. More often, she's on the floor, or up on her bunk, or sitting in the living room. She also watches movies while she works. While I don't argue too hard, I get distracted, so my dear Michelle is usually in the living room, plopped on her couch, watching a movie on Jenny, the TV. I don't know *why* it's named Jenny, but it is. Most things in our suite are named…

"Well… We could go to Wal-Mart," I suggested. Wal-Mart is about as exciting a place there is in our tiny college town. Being a super Wal-Mart, we spend a good deal of time and money shopping there. "But I'll have to take the chibis, or they'll make a mess." Michelle nodded.

"Do you think Janie wants to go?" Janie. The third leg of our "Roommate" triangle, Janie now lives in a townhouse on campus. (The bum.) Janie is just as, if not more, random as Michelle and I. When the three of us go someplace, people tend to hide. It's great fun. I tried to call her and IM her with no success.

"Looks like we'll just have to meander over there," I said cheerfully, grabbing a purse out of the closet and shoving my checkbook into it, then started gathering Transformers. Megatron wasn't happy about it, and Ultra Magnus was depressed when I dragged him away from Michelle's computer. Arcee didn't want to spend time anywhere near Starscream, but it couldn't be helped.

The outer door burst open, and Michelle and Amanda entered, both looking adorable. Each had a rose, and a grin to match.

"The boys from Scripture each got us roses!"

"They took us to a church and we had dinner-"

"-and played board games!" I chuckled softly. Michelle and Amanda were obviously excited about how their evening went, tripping over each other's sentences like a pair of puppies.

"Optimus was a perfect gentleman," Michelle assured me, pulling Optimus out of her purse and handing him to me. "And he warded off the dirty boys that weren't good for me, too." I grinned, though I was privately scared to find out whether she was simply 'playing along' or was serious.

"Glad to hear you two had fun," I said out loud. Amanda handed me the alt-mode Optimus and I settled them both in my purse, intending to ask some questions once the two freshmen took their leave. Michelle laughed behind me, as amused at the situation as I was. "Roommate and I are going to Wal-Mart, see you ladies later," I told them while yanking on my shoes. Michelle locked the door and we headed out into the evening to find Janie.

There was, come to find out, a distinct reason why we couldn't get a hold of Janie- she was ready for bed and officially not answering anything. She invited us into her townhouse, though, and we sat around and talked.

Of course, Starscream's curiosity HAD to get the better of him at that point.

He peeked out of my purse, poking me in the hand with a null ray.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking around the unfamiliar room with wide optics. I blinked in shock and shoved him back down into the purse, muffling his protest with a finger over his mouth.

"Roommate… What was that?" Janie asked, recognizing Starscream's voice with the small corner of her mind that knows her Transformers. I tried to look innocent. Michelle's hysterical laughter to my left wasn't helping much. "What's in your purse?" I fished the chibis out, offering them to Janie like some sort of weird plastic sacrifice.

"My Transformers," I said sheepishly. Janie snatched them away.

"Goodness, Roommate, you're nineteen years old! You don't need toys!"

"But these toys are-" Janie was evading my attempts to grab them back, grinning. "C'mon, Janie, give them back!"

"First you have to beg." I hastily fell to my knees and did so, laughing all the while. Though our bantering might seem rude and narrow-minded to some, we're the best of friends and Janie was honestly kidding.

"I promise I'll never, ever bring them to your house again, or have them out when you're around, just please give them back!" I knew I wasn't going to live this down from Megatron. I fervently prayed that he wasn't paying attention. Janie laughed that I was actually on hands and knees begging her, and dumped the lot of them into my hands. The group was quickly stowed in my purse and I hoped beyond hope that Starscream wouldn't get another of his bright ideas.

"Alright, you two, shoo, Wal-Mart is waiting," Janie laughed, ushering us out of her house. It was already 11:30, after all, and Janie was already in her cow-pattered pajamas. She really likes cows. For the Spotted Cow festival, a school-sponsored music festival in the spring, she *was* the Spotted Cow. No kidding. The funniest thing I've ever seen, to this day, was when Janie first put on that cow costume. I nearly wet myself three times over, I was laughing so hard.

The trip to Wal-Mart was blessedly uneventful.

Well, aside from Starscream crawling out of my purse and nearly getting sucked out of the open window. Other than *that,* it was blessedly uneventful.

Well… There was the whole "Insecticon-on-the-hood," thing, too, but other than *THAT,* it was blessedly uneventful.

Our Wal-Mart is a behemoth of a building, squatting and spreading out like some sort of demented cancer almost literally in the middle of nowhere. There is no rhyme or reason to the parking lot, so parking (and subsequently walking to the building) takes a certain degree of suicidal tendencies. Michelle and I braved the lot and were soon traipsing through the gigantic building, which was bustling, as always. I swear they hire people to mill about aimlessly in the middle of the night or something- that place is *always* full.

I grabbed a cart and set my purse down in the child's seat.

"Alright, guys, here's the deal- you're not to touch anything, or leave this cart, understand?" I hissed to the little heads popping out from the folds of my Becca bag. Most nodded. Megatron was swiftly relocated to my right pocket, his cannon safe in my left. I wasn't even going to try with him. The others piled out of my bag, exploring the confines of the shopping cart. Michelle made it a point to disown me (that is a routine occurrence in Wal-Mart, in all honesty) before we started collecting the items on our lists.

"Hey, look! Is that supposed to be *me*?" Starscream called, pointing. I glanced up from my contemplation of a Beast figurine to see what he was looking at. An Armada Starscream.

"Well, according to someone's demented plot, I think so." I picked up the box and gave it a critical once-over. "At least it looks like you. Some of the others weren't so fortunate." I picked up the Armada Megatron and sighed. "I really don't know what they were thinking with this one." Starscream just stared before breaking into hysterical giggles.

"A tank? They made him a TANK?" I nodded serenely.

"He looks like Shrapnel with those pincers on his head in robot mode, too." I could hear Megatron growling under his breath in my pocket.

"Roommate, you're not buying toys tonight, you can't afford them, remember?" Michelle called from the end of the aisle. I sheepishly put the boxes away and chased after her as she led to another part of the store.

"Miss Poptarts, we seem to have left Ultra Magnus behind." Optimus' quiet observation made my blood freeze.

"Where? What aisle?"

"I'm not sure… This place is so big," Optimus admitted softly.

"Stay in the cart. Michelle, I lost one," I called to my partner-in-crime, who rolled her eyes in response. "Keep an eye on the munchkins until I get back. Starscream, don't torment her." I jogged back through the aisles we'd already visited, searching for the little guy. I was mentally kicking myself for not paying attention; a two-and-a-half inch toy could get himself into a lot of trouble in a store the size of this one!

I passed the huge new media section and stopped a few paces beyond it. Magnus *was* a cartoon freak, after all… Following my hunch, I spun around to start searching for him.

"Ultra Magnus?" I called, ignoring the strange looks the other customers were giving me. It wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence by any means. No response. Drat. Even if he *was* there, he was probably so glued he'd never hear me…

"Ha! Eat that, Negaverse!" A familiar voice crowed from a row over. I nearly vaulted it, but walked around like a good civilized being, and suppressed a giggle when I found him.

Ultra Magnus was, once again, glued to a TV, watching cartoons.

This time, it was Sailor Moon.

"C'mon, I've got this stuff at home," I told him, scooping him up. Magnus blinked and looked up at me.

"…Poptarts? I didn't see you there."

"Uh-huh. What did I tell you about staying in the cart?" Magnus looked ashamed and I smiled a little, satisfied. "You're grounded from TV for the next two days, and I certainly hope you intend to be good the rest of the trip." Magnus nodded a little. He sat down in the palm of my hand, looking deflated. Poor guy. I'd let him watch my Sailor Moon tapes once he was ungrounded. I returned to the cart and frowned. Michelle was nowhere in sight.

Neither was Starscream or Arcee.

Time to panic.

"Michelle? Starscream? Arcee?" When all else fails, frantically screaming people's names in a store *works,* darnit. I found Michelle before long. Thankfully, Arcee was with her and not tearing Starscream to little pieces somewhere else in the store. Thank goodness for small favors. Most of the crew recollected, I wondered where Screamer could've possibly gotten off to. "Okay, if I were a chibi-sized homicidal robot, where would *I* be?" I mused out loud, searching the store over again for any sign of Starscream.

"Toys?" Michelle suggested.

Duh.

Why didn't *I* think of that?

I pulled the cart into a quick U-turn and headed for the toy section. Namely, the Transformers toys. He'd been shocked and probably appalled by his Armada successor, after all…

"Starscream!!" The little toy looked up at me, blinking in surprise. The barrels of his tiny guns were smoking. Half-melted Armada Starscream bits littered the floor and shelves below, and Starscream tried the innocent ploy.

"Some Autobot was doing this, and I was able to stop them!"

"You are SO grounded, young man!" I shrieked, before thinking about what I was saying.

Dude.

I'm starting to sound like a mom.

It worked, weird as it sounds. Starscream ducked behind the row of Thundercracker toys as I lunged for him, nearly taking the shelving with me. I managed to grab his wriggling frame and scoop him up, despite his quite verbal protests. Other customers were staring at me, obviously wondering what the SLAG I was doing.

"I'm going to have to pay for this, and it's all your fault!" I hissed.

"Poptarts, you're making a scene," Michelle called from behind me. I sighed and nodded, relaxing. I'd deal with the Screamer later. Right now, I had to find all the pieces of the Armada Starscream and take care of that mess.

Twenty dollars of my hard-earned cash later…

"Starscream, you're grounded for a week. Ultra Magnus, two days. Megatron… just don't cross me and I'll let you live." I paced the length of my room, the chibis all looking at me, some with innocent looks, others looking crestfallen. Megatron favored me with a look of total superiority and returned to… well, whatever it is he does up there on his shelf. I'm sure it has to do with taking over the world, starting with my dorm room. "The rest of you… I'm tired and I want to go to bed." I sighed. I confiscated weaponry and turned in for the night, making it to bed at a fairly early and respectable two am. Michelle was surprised. Friday nights I'm usually up until dawn, just because I'm strange like that.

Pseudo-parenthood seems to have changed that.

I lay there in the dark, listening to the chibis' soft voices as they carried on their various discussions on the other end of the room. It wasn't so bad, really. So I had six sentient chibi robots with more or less free reign of my dorm room. The rest of my toys could be the same way. Were that the case, I think Michelle would run screaming for her life, vowing to never associate with me again. Frankly, I think I'd do the same thing.

My friend Millie would be coming up from Mississippi the next Friday, and we'd attend C-Kon together. Both of our first anime conventions, only a few hours from my college. I was looking forward to it.

I wonder how much Michelle would demand in payment if I asked her to babysit…


	3. Flight of the Bumblebee

Life settled into an interesting routine before too long. Both Michelle and I were becoming conditioned to life with the "demon chibis," as she'd started to call them. Some days, I was tempted to agree.

"To think, I used to go to the bathroom without having to disarm booby traps," Michelle muttered one morning, entering with an interesting contraption made of string, paper clips, a ball point pen and duct tape. MacGyver would've been proud.

"Megatron…" The aforementioned chibi glanced up casually from a bit of paper, a piece of graphite in his hand.

"What, Poptarts? I'm busy."

"How many times do I have to tell you not to booby-trap the toilet?" We'd been over this. It seemed no matter what I did or what I threatened, he continued setting traps and doing other random things in my suite. Twice I'd woken up tied to my bed, Gulliver-style; once he managed to jury-rig the shower to spray paint instead (thankfully, I was the one who discovered it, it was only tempera paint, and I'd not stepped in yet. I could've killed him for that one...) and he'd set more booby-traps around my suite than I cared to count. Thanks to him, all of my suitemates knew about the chibis' sentience. At least he'd not found a way out of the suite yet… After discovering his destructive streak, I'd begged my suitemates to make sure the outer door was always closed, and I had one of the Autobots posted there to patrol at all times.

"You've never told me I couldn't booby-trap *that,*" Megatron said coolly. I growled in frustration.

"No more booby-traps, Megatron! I mean it!" Megatron gave me a dismissive look and continued whatever he was doing. I'd long since given up on trying to figure out his activities on the shelf; as long as he wasn't destroying anything, shooting anyone, or trapping something, I didn't really mind. He was used to having a Superweapon-Of-The-Week, after all. While a trap here and there in the room I can deal with, dragging Michelle and the rest of the suite into it was a bit… messy. "Are there any more traps, Megatron?" Megatron shrugged. I sighed, rubbing my temples before getting up to check the bathroom for more traps.

A shriek let me know that there were, in fact, more traps.

Angry spluttering from inside the bathroom told me that it was a particularly unpleasant trap that was sprung.

I cautiously opened the door and peeked inside, cringing at the sight. There stood Sarah, coated from head to toe in green paint.

"Look! I'm green! I'm an alien, baby…" Sarah started to sing. I slowly ducked out of the room.

"That's it… she's snapped… she couldn't take any more of my toys," I mumbled, horrified. The bathroom door opened and Sarah danced out.

"Look, everybody! Megatron made me green!" Assorted groaning came from the various bedrooms- in the past few days, everyone had fallen victim to at least one of Megatron's traps.

"It's probably tempera paint, it'll wash right off," I tried to reassure her. "I don't own anything else, so it's unlikely that he was able to get his little mitts on something that isn't water-soluble…"

"Poptarts, it's okay. What a way to start the morning! Whee!" With that, Sarah danced off, still green and apparently very amused by it.

"Yeah… Snapped. Definitely." I sighed and went to clean up the mess. The construction was quite elaborate, I had to admit- Megatron must've snuck out and worked on it all night. I was suddenly and acutely glad that I only owned two Decepticons. If I'd owned more… The dorm room would never be safe again. (Albeit I pretty much only want Decepticons… I'll just try to buy well-behaved ones… *eyeroll*)

"So, when does Millie get here tonight?" I froze in mid-mopping, turning to look at my roommate.

"I completely forgot she was coming tonight! Augh… The chibis are going to eat her alive!" Michelle chuckled.

"They only eat your sprinkles, remember?" I grumbled in response.

I love sprinkles more than any other food. I eat sprinkles on anything, and predominantly on whipped cream. I eat this 'snack' a lot, and my roommate is used to it.

Then the chibis came along.

They actually eat, strange as it sounds, and of *course* they had to get into my precious sprinkle supply. It has been steadily dwindling, and that was very depressing. 

"I don't see the humor in my sprinkles being eaten by sentient robots from Hong Kong, Michelle." Michelle rolled her eyes.

"I don't see the humor in sitting on a booby-trapped toilet, Roommate. *You* bought them." I nodded a little. Yes, I more or less brought this entire mess on myself…

"Michelle, since Millie and I are going to C-Kon all day tomorrow, and I don't want to take all of the chibis with me…" Michelle backed away, waving her hands madly.

"Oh no! I am NOT babysitting your demon toys!"

"Please? I'll bring you something back! And Starscream likes you, after all!" Michelle was shaking her head so hard I was afraid it might fall off. "C'mon, Roommate, please…" I gave her a patented "If you don't agree, I'm gonna DIE" wounded-EKP-look. Michelle sighed, closing her eyes.

"Which of the little monsters are you going to try to saddle me with?"

"Ah, heh…" I idly wondered how much money I'd have to give her as a bribe once she found out which Transformer I had in mind. Michelle, in the manner that tends to weird our friends out, apparently read my mind, for her backwards pinwheeling increased in velocity as she backed into the counter in an effort to escape my insane ideas.

"Oh, no, I will NOT do it if you're giving me Megatron." I sighed.

"As if I can give him to anyone *else*…"

"What about Brian?" I gave her a flat look.

"Heh, turns out that HIS toys are alive, too. He already *has* a Megatron, Michelle. Why would he want *two*?" Michelle nodded a little.

"Yeah, but… I'm going to a play tomorrow, roommate! I can't take HIM to a PLAY!"

"Why not? If he doesn't have his cannon, he's pretty harmless. Well, unless he's ticked off…"

"Isn't he usually ticked off?"

"Well, yeah…" I sighed. "Would you watch Starscream, then? Maybe some other poor soul will take Megs…"

"Alright, for you. But you owe me one, roommate," Michelle grumped.

"Just tell him you'll take his wings if he doesn't behave. That usually keeps him in line. If you take your homework with you, let him read it. He likes that, too." Starscream, being a scientist at heart, loved to read Michelle's many science books. It kept him occupied, so I generally didn't complain. Michelle didn't mind much, either. Starscream learned quickly and had helped her a time or two on a particularly sticky problem. My chemistry-major suitemate, Sarah, had taken quite a shining to the little guy, as well. She was always giving him problems to do, or letting him help grade lab reports. As far as I was concerned, a busy and happy Starscream meant one less Decepticon to worry about.

Megatron was not so easily entertained.

I mulled over the problem the rest of the day, while also making sure my suite was cleaned up for Millie's arrival. I love my suitemates dearly, but we have the messiest suite ever. For once, my room was cleaner than the living room, which is saying something, as I tend to be the sloppiest one in the suite. Comes with being an elementary education major- there's always a project, and it's inevitably untidy and all over the place. I love it. My roommate has come to accept it, and my suitemates ignore it as much as possible. 

Salvation came in the form of Chelsea when the girl wandered in to see if Michelle and I wanted to go to dinner. Telling her my intents of ordering a pizza when Millie arrived, Chelsea settled in to wait with me. I heard a splash from my room, a muffled shout of surprise, then a cry of "MEGATRON!" I leapt to my feet and dashed into my room to see what Megs had done now.

Michelle was soaking wet and glowering angrily at anything and everything that moved. I cringed and whipped around to find some towels to wipe up the water and my furious roommate.

"What happened?" Chelsea asked, wide-eyed as she followed me. Michelle was fuming and slammed the door to our closet to change.

"Megatron. Looks like he found some water balloons," I muttered, picking pieces of rubber from the floor. Various chibis were snickering quietly, while at least Optimus had the decency to appear insulted by Megatron's latest annoyance. I'm sure he'd be more destructive, given time and materials. I'm just glad I don't have anything sitting around that could potentially be deadly. Water balloons I can handle. Munitions might be a problem.

"Oh… I see. Hey, you're going to that convention tomorrow… Are you taking all of your toys with you?" I shook my head.

"No, only Optimus is going. I need babysitters for the rest."

"Well, I'm going to that volleyball game tomorrow, I could take one of them with me," Chelsea volunteered. I dropped my towel in shock and stared at her.

"Really? Would you even take Megatron?"

"Sure! I can always lock him in my car if he gets out of hand." Chelsea smiled cheerfully and I hugged her. I wanted to fall down at her feet and kiss them, but that might've scared her out of watching Megs, and that would be horribly counter-productive.

"You have no idea how much you've just saved my life, Chelsea," I gushed, extremely pleased. "I'll drop him off first thing in the morning."

The evening was pleasant, and the con was a blast. Optimus was good and watched with wide optics as we wandered the South Bend convention center and the surrounding area. I'd eventually found babysitters for the rest of the little monsters; once Megatron was out of the way, I actually had volunteers. That shocked me.

As I circled the dealer's room to find Christmas presents for my siblings, Optimus let out a shout.

"Miss Poptarts! Look!" He pointed at a nearby booth selling all sorts of interesting things. There, among the various anime dolls, hung a single Transformer. A Bumblebee keychain, that actually transformed. "We can't just leave him here!" Optimus pleaded.

"But Optimus…"

"You still have money, we need to buy him his freedom."

"I'm not running an underground railroad for toys, Op," I grumbled, and forked over the money. Having only gone to the convention with twenty dollars to my name, I was in a stingy mood, despite the fact that I'd found the one Transformer in a room full of anime wares. I quickly opened the package and freed the little guy, even unclipping the keychain from his bumper, and then shoved him into my breast pocket with Optimus. Suddenly glad I was wearing my 'commando' overshirt, I continued exploring, ignoring the conversation going on in my pocket. I was very, very thankful for the noise level in the room- I wasn't sure how *else* to explain the chatter taking place in my shirt.

Elsewhere in Indiana… 

Michelle took Starscream, while little Michelle volunteered to take Arcee. The two of them were going to attend a play of "Romeo and Juliet," so I figured of all the chibis, Arcee would most want to see it. Starscream would just have to live with it, as my dearest roommate was the only person willing to take him.

Poor Michelle.

Starscream wouldn't give me the full story, and neither would Michelle. Both came home livid; I was afraid to ask Michelle, frankly, knowing I'd end up clobbered with a rubber ducky to the face. Starscream just sulked up in his corner of the shelf and ignored my every attempt to coax a story out of him. Arcee filled me in somewhat as to what happened, but she'd been in little Michelle's purse for the start of it and wasn't sure how the whole situation began.

My best guess is that Starscream got bored on the trip back to school. (I was frankly surprised he didn't cause trouble beforehand.)

That is never a safe situation to be in, especially for my roommate, who has far less experience dealing with him. Michelle offered to let him read her book, but Starscream wasn't in the mood to learn about whatever it was Michelle was studying that week. Rather than shoving him into her backpack and telling him to shut up (as I probably would've done,) she just shrugged and returned her attention to her studies, leaving Starscream to his own devices.

They were riding in a fifteen passenger van full of honors college students. Students who didn't know me and didn't know about my so-called 'demon chibis.' And who also probably didn't have a clue who Starscream was and weren't likely to recognize him when he decided to start flying around the van.

Cries of "BEE! BEE!" came next, as one of the other girls panicked, seeing what appeared to be the biggest bumblebee ever to grace the earth with its presence. Starscream, thinking they were talking about the Autobot, whipped around and started shooting. Thankfully he was only using null rays, which sting a little but mostly just feel like one's limb has fallen asleep. This sowed more panic and confusion as the other students, mostly buried in work or conversations, suddenly heard laser fire and scrambled for cover.

Michelle, in her infinite wisdom, brought her Nursing Informatics book down on Starscream's body, smashing him down into the seat next to her and silencing the rest of the van.

"Some sort of weird cicada," Michelle explained, grinding the book down to let Starscream know that she was *not* happy.

Arcee was pointing and laughing so hard Michelle heard her and shot her an Icy Glare of Impending Doom™. That shut her up pretty quickly and she dove for cover in little Michelle's purse, not wanting to be on the receiving end of Michelle's book.

I kid you not, that so-called "book" of hers is four inches thick.

Starscream was picking pieces of himself out of the seat cushion for a good half-hour.

Out at the volleyball court… 

All I can say is, Chelsea had better be glad she's got such a boat of a car. It's the second-largest car Buick ever made, literally. She was at the men's volleyball tournament. Chelsea's the sports editor of the yearbook, and this was the only chance she'd have at going to one of the men's volleyball games. Otherwise, she'd have been at C-Kon, as well.

Chelsea was doing her usual thing; watching, camera at the ready, and waiting for that perfect action shot. This was not quite what Megatron wanted to do.

After ruining several good shots and single-handedly exposing an entire roll of film, Chelsea was fed up with his actions and locked him in her car.

A car that is a veritable tank.

Megatron, being the devious little monster he is, figured out a way to hotwire it. After a little maneuvering of other objects in the car, he soon had the brake pedal braced down and he returned to the steering column. He changed gear, throwing the car into forward, and returned to the pedals, shifting the heavy book he'd found from the brake to the gas pedal. The car roared to life, leaping from the parking lot. Megatron cackled with glee as he flew back up to the steering wheel, running the thing like a hamster on a wheel.

There is a reason chibis shouldn't drive. The lack of ways to reach the brake is one of them. Megatron had the gas floored and was racing across one of the many fields adjacent to the lot; after nearly running an entire track team down, he found a ditch and ran Chelsea's poor Buick into the embankment.

Chelsea saw her car drive out of the parking lot on its own accord and watched in horror as Megatron's first time behind the wheel lasted a whole twenty seconds. She found her legs then and tore off after him, glad he'd crashed into the ditch and not the playground across the street.

Chelsea, needless to say, was not happy.

I doubt she'll be babysitting for me again.

At the Kokomo mall… 

Sarah, Katie and Joni all went shopping, taking Optimus Alt-Mode and Ultra Magnus on their first mall crawl.

Neither will talk about it.

I think Alt-Mode was glad to have someone to talk to, but really bored; Ultra Magnus was really not in the mood to go clothing shopping. Neither robot were really sure what the point to clothes shopping *is.* When the trio stopped at the food court, the two robots were ready to make their escape.

I'm not letting Ultra Magnus watch "Mission: Impossible" or ANY Bond movie ever again.

Sarah was alerted to the escape-in-progress when she heard Ultra Magnus humming the Mission: Impossible theme song.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, HUMMING. This story is far too contrived for me to be making it up.

Motioning for the others to watch, my three suitemates sat back and waited for the two 'bots to come running back. Ultra Magnus boosted Alt-Mode out of Sarah's purse before climbing out himself, jumping and landing on Alt-Mode's trailer. Both free, Alt-Mode peeled off, Magnus clinging to his roof, and they charged off into the sunset. Magnus was clinging for dear life to Alt-Mode's roof and whooping like a madman, pleased at how well their escape was going. Alt-Mode fairly flew across the recently waxed floor of the food court, his momentum barreling the two towards their freedom.

And straight into a great big, pink, gooey wad of gum.

Alt-Mode did everything he could think of; he spun his tires, he tried reverse, but he was completely stuck. Ultra Magnus pushed and pulled and pried, but he couldn't free the truck, either. Frustrated, he reluctantly turned to the only help he knew of: Sarah, Katie and Joni. Sarah freed the truck and was kind enough to take him to the bathroom and clean him up, as well.

They've both been sulking ever since they got home, as well.

I really didn't help the situation by bringing Bumblebee home. My two Decepticons were already outnumbered, after all, and both suffered mortifying defeats today at the hands of nursing books and tank-like Buicks. Starscream was lectured but I let him off fairly easily; he really hadn't done anything worse than being seen in public. The resulting chaos wasn't entirely his fault, and I was more than pleased when I was told he had only used null rays. Megatron is completely dismembered and reminding me more and more of the Black Knight, sitting up on the shelf. His limbs are all hidden in different places and Starscream's in a bad enough mood that he won't help Megatron out for a few days, despite the death threats.

Bumblebee is the first robot I've brought home that can transform. The other Autobots are jealous, for the most part; Alt-Mode is ecstatic that there's another vehicle of sorts. Once freed of my pocket and allowed to transform, however, Bumblebee made a highly amusing discovery.

"I'm bigger than you!" he crowed, pointing at Optimus, who was only shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Yes, ladies and gents, Bumblebee is a centimeter or two taller than the mighty Optimus Prime, *and* he can transform. Ironic to the bitter end, Bumblebee is now the Autobot army's greatest asset in their fight against Megatron.

He's never, ever going to shut up about it, either.


	4. He's Not Quite Dead Yet

"Roommate! Roommate! Lookit lookit lookit!" I cried joyously, chasing Michelle through Wal-Mart, thrusting a box in her face. Michelle sighed in her long-suffering way and grabbed the box in order to read it, as I was bouncing so much there was no way she could clearly make out what it said.

"…Autobot medic Ratchet…" Michelle glanced up at me, raising an eyebrow. "What, some sort of sacrifice to appease me?" she asked. "I wouldn't mind if you sacrificed Megatron, but buying another toy… Don't you have enough?" I shook my head.

"It's *Ratchet,* roommate! Only the coolest medic *ever*!" I insisted, still hopping from foot to foot.

"Poptarts," Michelle began in that lecture tone I get a lot, "This says 'Transformers: Energon.' I thought you were boycotting that line."

"I'm boycotting Armada, and maybe he's just a recolor, like Silverbolt," I insisted.

"Are you *ever* going to finish painting him?" Michelle asked. I only shrugged, not honestly sure if I will or not.

Let me explain. See, the chibis are not my first Transformers. My first purchase was made about a week before I left home for this semester. The Energon line has a recolored Silverbolt, of the Beast Wars variety. I absolutely love Silverbolt and tell people on a regular basis that I'm going to marry him. When I saw this toy, I knew I needed to buy him.

Not only had they reissued my first Transformer love, they'd recolored him PURPLE and NEON GREEN. Frankly, nobody looks good in those colors, least of all my canine-raptor. I was on a mission: Silverbolt's honor had been tarnished by this repaint and I intended to fix that.

He's mostly finished, though I broke the cardinal rule of repainting (it was my first attempt!) and painted over his joints, more or less freezing him in one position for the rest of his existence. At least he won't be purple, right? I mean, honestly. His name is SILVERbolt. Not PURPLEbolt or REALLYUGLYREPAINTbolt. Silverbolt. And for the time being, he lives in a box in the top of the closet, hanging out until I get around to finishing him.

I took the box back from my roommate and resumed hopping from foot to foot.

"Should I buy him? Ratchet's so awesome," I insisted.

"I'm your roommate, not your mom. You don't need my permission."

"Yes I do, otherwise you'll be miffed for a week," I reminded her. Michelle sighed.

"Alright, fine. Go ahead." I giggled and broke into a run for the cashier.

After about twenty minutes of fiddling with the box, trying to free my new toy, and five minutes of actual play, I'd snapped him in two. Michelle heard my following "Oh, SHOOT" and quickly glanced over, preoccupied with driving.

"You broke him already, didn't you?"

"You saw nothing." I squinted down at the pieces in my hands. It was late, subsequently dark, and let me tell you, Ratchet is a really difficult 'bot to transform. All three of these factors worked against me and resulted in Ratchet's sudden and rather spectacular dismemberment. "I think he's supposed to come apart there," I realized, noticing it was a socket joint.

"Riiiight. That's what you say every time you break something in half."

"It's not half, per se…" Michelle groaned and ignored me as I fumbled to reconnect Ratchet's legs. He wasn't transforming as I thought he should, and that was annoying me. "I don't think he's a repaint. I think he's an entirely different toy," I realized out loud, intensely disappointed. I really don't mind repaints, as long as the toy itself is more or less identical to the original. With Ratchet, I was hoping maybe they'd tried to update his look somewhat by making him an SUV instead of a boxy ambulance, but keep him otherwise the same. I'm really, really good at guessing wrong.

Ratchet is positively hideous.

Let's get something straight here. Silverbolt in purple and neon green is awfully ugly, but at least he looks like something in both forms. Ratchet has the entire FRONT END OF A CAR for his left elbow. He also has no right hand, instead opting for a launcher that shoots some sort of weird-looking projectile that serves as the step on the undercarriage in vehicle mode. I guess I'm a stickler for symmetry- the G1 robots were all more or less symmetrical when in robot mode. The Energon line makes no such attempt.

I think I know why he was sold in vehicle mode. Hasbro/Takara/whomever wouldn't have made any money on him, otherwise.

"The real Ratchet's gonna be rolling in his post-Movie grave when he finds out about this," I muttered, frowning at the toy when I finally managed to put him back together and fully transform him. (I didn't even have to look at the instructions! This is proof that I'm far, far too stubborn for my own good.) Of course, it took me a good half-hour to finish, and we were already back in our room. Michelle glanced up from her book and rolled her eyes.

"Roommate… There is no 'real' Ratchet, he never really existed."

"Alternate dimensions, Michelle. Honestly- how do you think the chibis came to be alive?"

"I dunno, you give off some sort of weirdness radiation?" I giggled.

"That explains it!"

"Oh no…" Michelle groaned. "I take no responsibility for the monster I've created…"

"Only really, really weird people give off huge quantities of Weirdness Radiation™, which has the power to warp and distort reality around them! Roommate, you're a genius!"

"And you're irrevocably nuts. Play with your toy, I'm reading." I glanced back at the desk, sighing at Ratchet.

"You poor thing," I said, feeling true pity for the ugly little bugger. "You've got most of a car hanging off one arm, and no hand on the other… I don't think I want to call you 'Ratchet.' It just doesn't suit you."

"Miss Poptarts, who's this?" Optimus and the other Autobots were gathering around Ratchet, all curious as to who the new robot was.

"His name is Ratchet, but that's gonna change soon. He's an Autobot-" I could hear Megatron groan from the shelf- "And he's a medic of sorts, though he really doesn't look the part." Bumblebee poked Ratchet's leg, frowning when he realized he only came up to his knee.

"What the…?" Ratchet glanced around, confused and disoriented. "Where… Where am I?"

"Autobot base, suite 210!" Bumblebee crowed, cheerful as always. Ratchet frowned down at the little robot.

"What are you *talking* about, suite 210…?"

"It's a long story, trust me." Ratchet's head jerked around and he stared at me for a long moment before taking aim and firing his little sideboard-launcher straight for my head. I ducked and heard an angry yelp come from behind me.

"Roommate!" Michelle turned around and whipped the bit of plastic at me. "Get your toys under control!"

"Sorry… He's kinda disoriented, that's all," I apologized for 'the robot who will be temporarily known as Ratchet until I come up with a new name.' "Ratchet, this is my dorm room, I'm Poptarts, and this is my roommate, Michelle. You'll meet the others before too long. I think Optimus can fill you in on the rest of the details." Ratchet nodded vaguely, a bit shocked that his leader was now small enough to step on. I heard angry muttering from the Decepticon shelf and glanced up into the smoldering face of Megatron.

"Hey, once I find some Decepticons, I'll buy 'em," I said quickly, holding my hands up in a placating gesture. "But the Armada and Energon Decepticons are really, really ugly. I'm looking for some G1, don't worry."

"Good," he hissed, storming off to plot or whatever behind some of my reference books. I sighed, rolling my eyes. For all of my threatening, I can't send Megatron back- the company I bought him from doesn't want him, or any of the others, for that matter. I failed to notice the "No Returns" policy when I ordered him. Unless I finally get so sick of him I stick him in my blender, I'm stuck with Megatron's terrorizing forever.

That blender is starting to look real friendly.


	5. I, Robot

November came and went in one big 'whoosh,' leading straight into December without even so much as a 'see you next year.' Finals were looming dark on the horizon, and my suite became a bustle of frenzied activity. Each of the suitemates drew names and we planned a Secret Santa party for the weekend before finals.

I drew Amanda, The World's Most Difficult Person to Buy For™. I honestly didn't know who drew me, and I planned to deliberately not know, as well. Michelle and I combed Wal-Mart and the Dollar Tree trying to come up with something- *anything*- for Amanda. I finally put together a basket of bath supplies deliberately all chosen in green, as that is Amanda's favorite color.

Michelle drew Katie, the other nursing major in the suite. She bought a Playschool doctor kit for her; I thought it was absolutely hysterical.

While in Wal-Mart, looking for Katie's present, we were obviously in the toy aisles. Michelle was sorely tempted to leave me in the car.

"Look! Unicron's only $35 now!"

"You are NOT buying him, Roommate."

"But why not?" I whined, knowing full well what Michelle was about to say.

"Hrm, lessee, he appears to be roughly TWO FEET TALL. Your toys ALREADY try to kill us; why do you want a homicidal robot the size of a small child?!"

"Um… Because it's Unicron! Unicron is awesome! I could use him for a bowling ball on rainy days!"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't make that last comment." Michelle rubbed her forehead, obviously working on a migraine on my behalf. "No, roommate, you will not buy Unicron." I pouted but continued perusing the Transformers toys, wondering when- if ever- they would get a new shipment. They've got like fifty Hot Shots, but absolutely none of the cooler characters. (By 'cooler' I mean 'more G1 accurate.') I really want a Starscream- even though the Starscream I already have would pitch a royal conniption. 

"Hrm… Just think, I could get some minicons and we could use them for bowling pins."

"No."

"We could use Starscream and Megatron, too!" I ignored Starscream's high-pitched protests coming from within my purse.

"NO." Michelle grabbed my arm and hauled me out of the toy section.

I'm wearing her down, I know it. She'll come around, just watch.

Our presents remained hidden in our closet, away from the prying eyes of suitemates and chibis alike. Finally, the day of the Christmas party came. Arcee was terribly excited- she'd found a bit of blue ribbon and tied it around her forehead, flapper-style- while the rest of the chibis didn't understand why *they* didn't get presents, too.

"I'll share mine with you," I promised. That mollified most of 'em. I headed out to the living room to help set up, noticing that Sarah was wrapping a present but thinking nothing of it. Roommate's hissed "Sarah!" gave away the fact that it was intended for me. Having not gotten a very good look *anyway,* I was banished back to the room until Sarah was finished wrapping.

"If you hadn't said anything, I wouldn't know it was mine," I admonished Michelle. She just shrugged and laughed hysterically. She does that a lot.

The chibis attended the party with me, spending their time on the table, finishing off the last of little Michelle's hand-dipped, hand-sprinkled fun Christmas white chocolate pretzels. 

Every last one of 'em is a sugar fiend, I swear.

Michelle handed out the presents, all unlabeled, but Michelle, being a devious lil' bugger, knew who each present was from and for. People either came to her for advice (as I did) or she figured it out as each person delivered their presents to my two-foot tree on the living room fridge.

At any rate, we went around in a circle, each person opening their gift and guessing who their Santa was. (This wasn't terribly hard, as nobody in my suite but roommate Michelle can keep their mouths shut.) Amanda loved my present, which made me very, very happy. Katie thought hers was a riot and ran around taking blood pressure, though the cuff was so small, she could only get it around one's wrist. Kinda hard to take blood pressure from there, but eh, she was amused.

Sarah was watching me like a hawk when I opened my package, as were the chibis, all hoping it was something they'd enjoy- like a huge package of sprinkles or something. I'd shaken it, as my only guess was that it was Legos (the corner of the box I'd seen for that split second reminded me of a Lego box) but it didn't rattle quite enough to be my favorite present from the Danish Elves. Instead, wrapped up in more plastic than a chibi is made of, lay a "Galactic Defender." This guy is a knock-off Transformer who 'transforms' (not really) from a space shuttle to a robot to another, smaller robot and his own little scout ship, or something. The box wasn't terribly specific. It looks a lot like a Gundam, done mostly in black and grey, with purple stickers all over the place. He's pulling a Shockwave with his gun arms, and he has eyes in the back of his head. Literally.

"You're really gonna share him, right?" I rolled my eyes, knowing that voice. I could almost *hear* the drool.

"Arcee…"

"Well, what is he? Decepticon or Autobot?" Megatron wanted to know. I sighed.

"He's neither right now. He doesn't even have a *name,* guys. Give him some time for the Weirdness Radiation™ to sink in." My suitemates were all giving me blank looks. "Y'know, Weirdness Radiation™- I give it off in spades, or haven't you noticed?" Michelle fell off the couch, cracking up and laughing so hard she could no longer make noise. The suitemates exchanged looks, and a fairly unanimous 'yeah' rang out a moment later.

"It explains so much," little Michelle snickered.

"He's taller than me!" Ratchet exclaimed, frowning heavily. Bumblebee, having already gotten over his displacement as tallest house robot (though he's the tallest of the chibis still- Ratch is too ugly to be a chibi) patted Ratchet's leg and shrugged.

"You'll get over it." I sat the new robot down on the table, letting the other Transformers take a closer look at him. 

"He… ah… Sorta transforms," Optimus said, trying to be positive. I laughed and thanked Sarah for the gift. Knock-off or not, a Transformer is a Transformer. Besides, the price range was $5-10, which is completely waaaay too low for Sarah to find a decent Transformer.

"He was cooler looking than the others, I know he's off-brand," Sarah said apologetically. I shrugged.

"He's awesome. But he needs a name."

"So do *I,* in case you forgot," Ratchet called from the table.

"I need two names, then. He kinda reminds me of Astrotrain, being a weird triple-changer and with the shuttle transform and all…"

"So why not call him that?" Ah, my ever logical roommate.

"Because he doesn't turn into a train."

"Oh. What about Columbia?" I thought about this a moment.

"Do you *want* him to explode into a bajillion pieces?" Michelle just gave me an innocent look. "Besides, a teacher died in that explosion. I don't think so." I sighed, surveying my nine Transformers. "That's it, I'm holding a contest on my site to name these two."

"What are you going to give whomever wins?"

"Um… The satisfaction that they named two of my toys?" Michelle shook her head.

"Hey, look! I think the radiation's finally taking effect!" Ratchet called as the nameless robot began to stir. His first reaction, upon seeing his new owner looming before him, was to shoot at me. As I'm getting used to this now, I was able to duck.

The wall was not so fortunate. Having no other place to go, it remained steadfastly in one place and took the blow.

I'm gonna owe the school so much money in repairs…

"Alright, goodnight, ladies, looks like it's time for New Robot Orientation," I said, scooping up my collection and high-tailing it for my room while everyone, sans Michelle, sat there and looked stunned.

Michelle had fallen off the couch again, laughing hysterically.

She does that a lot.

_To be continued... When I'm not being a lazy author._


End file.
